Author's Note: I've wanted to write this since the great Elsa reveal at the end of season three, but I never got around to it until now. Well, better late than never, right? Plus, I love worried!Killian. So, let's set this somewhere after meeting Elsa, early in season four.

"Life is only a flicker of melted ice."

― Dejan Stojanovic

The jacket is at least two sizes too big.

With the cream color and the puffiness of the fabric, she can't help but feel that she looks like a marshmallow. She can barely lift her arms with how much material is covering them. If she were to fall down, she's sure that might roll away or get someone to pull her off the floor. Under the jacket, a cashmere sweater itches her skin, but she can't risk scratching lest she let some precious heat escape.

"Okay," Killian mutters as he reaches for the hand-stitched white scarf with the fringe at the bottom. "Let me just do this." With a gentleness few would expect from the fearless Captain Hook, he wraps the scarf around her neck.

"Killian." She yanks the material down so she can at least speak without it getting in the way. Placing a gloved hand over his, she forces a smile on her pale pink lips. "I'm okay."

"No." Killian mutters darkly, placing a hand over her heart. Shaking his head and letting his gaze fall, he adds, "You're not, Emma."

He's right of course.

She's not all right—not by a long shot. Her heart is freezing solid. Slower thanks to her magic resisting it, but still, as each moment passes, she's getting closer and closer to becoming a human popsicle. All it took was just one errant blast from the Snow Queen and before she knew it, her life was coming to a sudden halt.

Elsa is trying to find someway to reverse it. She has, apparently, seen her sister almost succumb to the same affliction, only for her to survive. The Queen of Arendelle didn't seem too optimistic about Emma's chances, but that hadn't stopped her from joining Mary Margaret and David from meeting up with Belle, scouring over every text they could get their hands on, hoping for some sort of solution.

"Until then," Elsa cautioned. "Stay warm."

Well, that they had got covered. Between her jacket, her sweater, her scarf and the two space heaters David found, the inside of Mary Margaret's is becoming a sauna. Honestly, Emma would turn on the air conditioner if she could—she's sweating with all these layers.

"Don't make that face." Killian admonishes her softly, seeing her pout. "This is for the best."

She presses a kiss to his lips, relishing the heat that surges through her body at the contact. It's a chaste kiss—he's holding back, she can tell—and when he pulls back, his hand rests on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"Killian," She's afraid to speak any louder than a whisper; as if it will break the fragile security they've managed to construct. For this one moment, it's almost as if her heart isn't freezing and that he isn't on the verge of losing another woman he loves. It's just her and him and the love they share. But still, she has to prepare him, to warn him, just in case. "If things don't work—"

"Don't say that." He pleads, breath ragged, as if she's stabbed him with a dagger and punctured his lung. His grip on her hand tightens and he kisses her again, fierce and desperate. He kisses her until she can't breathe, until the room spins around and all there is him and his kiss.

"Killian." She breaks it off, breathless. "Listen to me, please. If I don't—"

"Bloody Hell Emma!" He exclaims, slamming his fists against the wall, causing one of his knuckles to bleed.

"Hey, easy!" She cautions, reaching for his injured hand. "What? You plan on breaking down all of my parents' walls?"

He doesn't anything, just stares at her with those cerulean eyes that remind her of the ocean on a sunny day. His gaze is intense, like he's trying to engrave every part of her visage into his mind.

"Emma." He finally starts softly. "I've lost Mila." It still pains him to say her name, which Emma knows. The few times he's spoken of her, the grief has still been evident in both the way his gaze would fall as well as he would lower his voice. "And I thought after her . . ." He bites his lower lip then seems to relax. "I thought after her, there was nothing more in life. Just revenge." He chuckles darkly. "With Liam's death too, I just assumed that my fate was to travel the seas aimlessly, carrying a void that I could never fill."

"Killian, it wasn't your—" She places a gloved hand on his shoulder and he grabs it instead, pressing a kiss to it.

"And then I met you." He beams at her, smile as warm as sunshine, and it fills her with butterflies, just like it did the first time they met. "You, Emma Swan, who somehow wasn't like the others."

"You mean because I didn't fall for your charm?" She teases lightly, unsure if she's ready for such a heavy talk. Part of her is still scared to let go and trust. Her life has taught her that trusting people—trusting anyone fully—only leads to heartbreak. But with Killian . . . it's different. She knows he'll catch her when she falls. He won't leave her behind, won't betray her.

"Well there was that," He mutters cheekily. Then, expression sobering, he adds, "You saved me Emma. You made me feel again, made me care about something." Pulling her close to him, he rests his chin on top of her head, his arms encircling her. "You filled the void."

"Killian, I . . ." She doesn't know how to respond to such a confession. The words are caught on her tongue, unable to be released. "You've saved me too you know." She finally settles on that. "And I . . ." She laughs dryly. "Sorry. I'm not too good at this whole touchy-feely crap."

He laughs then, loud and boisterous and it almost tricks her into thinking everything is fine. It's almost as if she's not on the verge of freezing solid and he's not terrified of losing her.

"Emma, I—" His hand is warm on her cheek and she wants to close her eyes and wish for time to stop.

But, then that moment ends and reality comes crashing in.

She gasps as her heart spasms. She places a hand to her chest, trying to rub the odd sensation away, but it doesn't. Jagged pain replaces it and her knees buckle.

"Emma!" Killian's panicked expression swims into view and she wishes with all her heart that he didn't have to see this, to watch her slowly fade away. He's suffered too much and she doesn't want to add to it—to be the person that finally breaks him completely.

"I can't breathe." She manages to say and it feels like her chest is literally caving in on itself, forcing all the oxygen out of her lungs. Her heart is skipping beats and it feels like at the same time something is slowly stabbing it, trying to tear it in two.

"Tell me what to do." Killian pleads, holding her securely in his arms. "How can I help you?"

This might be the end of her.

She might freeze in the next few seconds, be encased in ice for good. If that's the case, the last image she'll take of him will not be this. She does not want to forever remember the panic in those blue eyes she adores or the way his voice is breaking as he begs her to stay.

"K-Killian." It takes all of her strength to get herself sitting upright and then, before it takes her over, her lips brush against his.

He yields to her immediately and she relishes the feel of him against her and she hopes he understands what she can't convey in words.

Please, Killian.

Sudden warmth seems to engulf her, but still, she holds him tighter and hopes that this moment will go on for just a little bit longer. The idea of him being so empty again—it terrifies her. She wants for him to live, to laugh and to one day, love without her. Even if it breaks her heart, even if she wishes with her entire being that she could stay by his side, she can't stand the thought of Killian becoming shattered.

Don't let this end you.

The kiss ends and she waits for the cold to consume her, for the darkness to swarm her vision and take her away.

It doesn't.

"Emma?" Killian breathes and she swallows nervously.

"I'm not ice." She concludes softly, confused. "I should've become ice, right?"

He unzips her jacket and presses a hand to her chest, and with baited breath, she waits.

"It's beating normally." He begins, astonished and his eyes are wide as a confused child's. "Emma, your heart, it's fine."

"But how?" She interjects. "I thought for sure that I was—"

"True love's kiss." Killian says softly, beaming once more.

"True love's kiss?" She echoes, a smile slowly tugging her now pink lips upward. "But I thought—"

"True love is the most powerful magic of all, right?" Killian asks and she nods her head. "Then, Emma Swan," He winks playfully at her. "It seems like you're stuck with me."

She blinks for a few moments and then begins to laugh. A few tears roll down her cheeks and he wipes them away. She practically throws herself into his arms, holding him much too tightly.

"Gods, Emma," He whispers. "I thought I lost you."

"You didn't." She assures him, moving much closer to him, almost so close that their noses are almost touching. "You won't."

"True love conquers all, does it?" He asks with a smirk.

"Yeah," She replies. Then, with a mischievous grin, she adds, "But I guess you better kiss me once more though, just to make sure."

And with a chuckle, he obliges.

Author's Note: So much fluff! I almost gave myself a cavity from writing it. But, what can I say, these two bring out the romantic sap in me. I hope you enjoyed! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!